


Sick Day, Sick Day, Go Away

by sonicsora



Series: The Techopath and Spider [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Twins, Brotherly Affection, Fluff and Humor, Gen, Humor, Parent Tony Stark, Sick Character, Tacos, Texting, teenagers being dorks, texting fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-21
Updated: 2019-09-21
Packaged: 2020-10-25 00:49:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20715341
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sonicsora/pseuds/sonicsora
Summary: Harley ends up staying home sick from school, Peter can't help but text his brother throughout the day. He likes to check-in, and mildly torment his brother with the fact there is a taco truck on campus.





	Sick Day, Sick Day, Go Away

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TinkerSpark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TinkerSpark/gifts).

> Just a very silly AU where Peter and Harley are twins & go to the same school. Written for a friend who told me to post it. 
> 
> Yep, its mostly a texting fic, but shhh.

Harley (Sombra Stan Supreme)

Today 8AM

Peter: Do you want me to bring you anything on the way back from school today btw?  
Peter: I know Dad is probably shoving thirty glasses of orange juice down your throat right now.

Harley: One of those hotdogs you won’t shut up about.  
Harley: I want real food.  
Harley: If I have any more soup I’m going to implode. 

Peter: Oh, you mean the ones you also don’t shut up about? Sure.  
Peter: plz don’t become a supervillain over soup, Harley.

Harley: I make no promises, fuck soup. 

Peter: fist fight soup.

Harley: watch me, I will.  
Harley: [_fucksoup.jpg- A picture of Harley’s hand in a bowl of tomato soup, middle finger extended._] 

Peter: jsdksa HARLEY. 

Harley: I’ll destroy soup with my bare hands. 

10:30AM

Peter: Oh my god, did you infect Ned with your hell cold too?  
Peter: He just texted me he’s staying home cause he’s sick. Man, I hope his cold is less gross than yours.  
Peter: No legos during lunch period I guess…? 

Harley: Maybe. I have to spite you somehow, lego boy.  
Harley: Dunno, guess we both just have real terrible sick timing idk.  
Harley: Don’t die from lack of legos, nerd. 

Peter: Monster. My twin, a monster.  
Peter: If MJ is sick today is gonna be super weird. I guess I could… hang out with Betty?  
Peter: Not awkward at all or anything. ‘hey betty, lets hang out because all my usual friends and brother are gone.’ 

Harley: You’ll figure it out. Just don’t get desperate enough to hang out with Flash.

Peter: lol, no.  
Peter: Ok, MJ is here.  
Peter: She’s telling me about the history of the domestication of rats. There were rat fighting pits. It’s actually pretty cool. 

Harley: God, you two are dorks.  
Harley: rat fighting pits though….  
Harley: Did people bet on the rats?

Peter: Apparently.  
Peter: …No we’re not starting a rat fighting pit, Harley. 

Harley: fuck, fine. 

11:20AM

Peter: MJ literally just made Flash like, runaway.  
Peter: I’m still kinda reeling.

Harley: Excuse me, what

Peter: Flash was being, well Flash and trying to annoy me. MJ just like bodily flopped against the locker he was trying to open and threatened she’d throw him into her rat fighting pit. She just looked at him for a really long time and he just couldn’t say anything back…?  
Peter: He just got this weird look on his face and… scurried away.  
Peter: it’s so weird. 

Harley: Fuck.  
Harley: we need a rat fighting pit now

Peter: NO 

12:30PM

Peter: ok, you and Ned chose the worst day to be sick. They’re actually letting food trucks onto campus.  
Peter: Like, good food trucks.  
Peter: The student body president got actual food trucks on campus, Harley. 

Harley: what

Peter: [_foodtrucks.jpg - Picture of Peter and MJ’s faces in bottom of the frame with food trucks behind them. Peter is smiling, MJ looks unimpressed._]

Harley: hey, what the fuck. 

Peter: they have tacos.  
Peter: actual tacos.  
Peter: [_Tacotruck.jpg - dramatically zoomed in picture of a taco truck with MJ smugly holding up two tacos in the air dramatically in front of it._] 

Harley: I’m calling the police.  
Harley: FUCK that is the good taco truck we can only get to on patrol!  
Harley: son of a bitch 

Peter: Dad will flip if you leave the house when you’re that sick for tacos. Stay in bed.

Harley: stop reading my god damn mind. 

Peter: Never.  
Peter: I’ll see if I can track the truck down later and get you a taco. 

Harley: Fuck fine. I guess I’ll fucking stay then. I want a taco and hotdog. 

Peter: Can do, Harls. 

Harley: You’re maybe my favorite for your acceptance of my demands. 

2:50PM

Peter: [_foodhaul.jpg - Close up of a hot dog and two tacos in a paperbag._]  
Peter: Behold. 

Harley: Oh my god.  
Harley: finally I can die in peace

Peter: lol dork.  
Peter: Don’t die plz.  
Peter: see you soon, Harls. 

\--

Peter grins a little as he walks into his brother’s room, “Still hungry-?” Harley sits up in bed, blinking out of his powers as he makes grabby hands at the paper bag Peter has in hand. The fifteen-year-old just laughs a little as he walks over depositing the bag on the bed. He’s decidedly unsurprised when his twin tears into the first taco like he’s never eaten before in his life. 

“Did you seriously just ignore soup after that picture?” Peter drops his backpack by the foot of the bed, moving to sit down on the edge of the bed as Harley eats. He toes off his sneakers so he can just sit cross-legged on the bed more comfortably. 

The blonde twin grunts, chewing as he talks. Bits of cheese and taco shell are going everywhere, but there is no stopping Harley when he's this hungry. “I ate the damn soup, but under protest.”

“Well, you’re certainly feeling better if you can do something under protest.” Peter muses with a laugh. “Are they still hot enough-?” 

“Yes, dunno how-” He paused, squinting back at Peter. “Did you spiderman home to keep them hot?” 

Peter rubs the back of his neck, “Maybe. I thought that’d be better.” 

“God, you are a dork.” Harley huffs back, “...Thanks.”


End file.
